


Behind Your Ancient Eyes

by RunWithWolves



Series: Tidbits and Timbits [2]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:51:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6618592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunWithWolves/pseuds/RunWithWolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Carmilla and Laura, weeks trapped in the library and chased by the Dean's followers has meant nothing but heartache and terrible choices. However now that they've finally emerged, Carmilla is determined to do whatever it takes to bring Laura back to herself and make her smile again. Even if that means making a total fool of herself.</p><p>Some sacrifices take more than a video camera and a batch of cookies to come back from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind Your Ancient Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This wouldn't let me go. No matter how hard I tried, it just wouldn't let me go. I gave myself the restriction of writing like we'd see it from a camera. One angle. Only the ability to give you movements and words without getting in the character's head. Pick up like the show does with things having happened between each of the seasons that we don't see.
> 
> Here's my take on a season 3. Lumps and all.

When Carmilla turned on the camera, Laura said nothing. 

Carmilla spent a moment fiddling with the camera focus, lip caught between her teeth, before pulling back to drop down onto the bench beside Laura. A small puff of dust erupted from the worn cushion to settle on her bare arms as she tried to make herself comfortable. She squirmed for a moment before giving up on the task entirely, choosing instead to gently fold Laura’s hands in her lap. 

“There you go cupcake,” Carmilla said, forcing some joviality in her tone, “As promised. You can update and report to your heart’s content.”

Laura didn’t even look up from where she was slumped on the bench, leaving Carmilla’s words to bounce off the stone walls surrounding them and disappear into the sheets covering the rest of the furniture. They drifted lazily on the wind current created by the room’s new occupants. The once white sheets now turned beige and swaying in their presence like the ghosts of years gone past. 

Ghosts of years present. 

Laura stared downward and said nothing as Carmilla watched her. Paused. Waited. 

When Laura said nothing, Carmilla took it upon herself to continue, “Normally,” Carmilla said, “I’m not particularly interested in this whole bush league investigative journalism shtick that you’ve been pushing but even I can admit that the last few weeks have been,” she paused, “eventful. We couldn’t possibly leave your loyal viewers in the lurch. That would unethical journalism.” She grimaced, “Yes. I know. Unethical journalism. Who says that? This is what happens when you leave your textbooks lying around, I actually learn things.”

Pasting on a smile, Carmilla gave Laura a small shove with her shoulder. 

Laura slipped sideways at the pressure before moving slightly to return to her original position. Carmilla’s eyebrows rose at the motion but as nothing happened to follow it up, her brows dropped back down. 

A sigh full of breath she didn’t need slipped out.

“Come on cutie,” Carmilla tried again, “Never known you to miss an opportunity to shine for the camera.”

Laura’s only movement was the shallow draw of her breath, moving her chest faintly up and down. The action creating a small flutter of the bit of her shirt poking out from a black leather jacket. Otherwise, Laura was nearly a statue. Shoulders slumped inward and face turned away from the camera to stare at the ground. Her arms hung loose at her sides, hands piled in her lap where Carmilla had placed them and drowning in leather sleeves that were slightly too long. 

Mouth silent. 

Still. 

Empty of words. 

So Carmilla found them. Her eyes flicked over Laura’s face after every sentence, pausing as though the silence would somehow prompt speech to fill it, “The Ginger’s working on securing a permanent passage to the library. Just in case. As far as sentient Escher paintings go I’m not sure how they intend to create object permanence but I’m not interested in asking. I may not like the particular location it chose to spit us into,” Carmilla’s eyes broke from Laura to roam the room and she swallowed as her gaze flitted from one sheet to the next.

“But,” she continued, “it’s certainly preferable to spending another week trapped in the library itself. At least this way, we’re clear of campus. Get you some sun.” Carmilla’s hand came up, hovering over Laura’s shoulder before landing to smooth an invisible crease in the fabric, “It’s been awhile since we’ve seen the sunshine, eh? Blue sky. Birds chirping. All that whimsical nonsense that you love.”

Carmilla pointed at the window just beyond them, light filtering through in speckles of light and dark that shifted with the clouds. Laura didn’t even look. 

She didn’t speak.

She didn’t move under Carmilla’s hand as it slowly returned to her back, smoothing up and down. 

“You can see the stars from here,” Carmilla continued, “I think. I’ll admit that I never intended on returning but the view was always phenomenal. We’ll see when it gets dark, go stargazing. And yes,” Carmilla switched to just a finger running along Laura’s shoulder blade as something flirty snuck into her voice, “I do just mean stargazing, cupcake. Although, I could probably find some champagne in this equally impressive wine cellar.”

Carmilla left the words hanging in the air. 

Laura’s muscle twitched under her fingertip.

“Laura?” Carmilla darted around, dropping to her knees in front of Laura and looking up at the face hidden behind waves of brown hair. Carmilla’s eyes wide.

Nothing. 

“Can you hear me?” Carmilla asked.

Silence.

“We could have that talk.” Carmilla prompted, “the one we promised to have when you were cheating at board games?”

Nothing. 

Just Carmilla’s own voice ringing back at her as she stared up into the face but never the eyes of a girl whose hand Carmilla didn’t even know if she was allowed to take. Her gaze dropped to Laura’s fingers as her own twitched slightly. There were still remnants of blood trapped in both their cuticles.

Their being trapped in an endless maze of a library hadn’t exactly been conducive to cleanliness. 

Although, the swipes of blood across Laura’s skin would indicate that at least someone had tried even if they hadn’t quite succeeded in brushing the blood away.

“Well,” Carmilla said, working around the thickness in her throat, “at least we can get you cleaned-up. I’m uncertain as to the modernity of the bathrooms here but I’ll draw you a bath if that’s what required. Surely, we’ll be able to find some towels. Won’t have to worry about scrubbing your skin raw. Then track down some clean clothes and you’ll be feeling as good as new. Of course, it might be a little tricky to track down something with as much animal print as your closest demands but I think -.”

“Oh god,” Mattie’s voice cut through the silence, “you’re still at it.”

Carmilla jerked to her feet as Mattie walked in but didn’t move from Laura’s side, “Go away Mattie.”

Mattie was examining the room with a casual interest. She ran her finger over one of the sheets before looking down at the dust on her fingers and frowning, “Well, they haven’t been doing a good job with the upkeep now have they?”

“It’s hardly a priority,” Carmilla said.

“Unlike the little glowing moppet over there.” Mattie said, “You’ve hardly left her side since my return. You’d think rising from the dead twice over would be enough for a girl to get a little attention.” 

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” Carmilla said, “ you know that.”

“But?” Mattie prompted.

Carmilla looked down at Laura, pale fingers twitching at her side before crossing her arms, then she said, “I thought you were supposed to be making sure the Ginger didn’t accidentally send us down an inter-dimensional wormhole.”

“Bah, they started nattering on about the manchild and Maman’s ginger pets and the boy stuffed in William’s body and I just couldn’t listen anymore.” Mattie said and yanked one of the sheets off a rather large armchair. Running her finger along the edge and finding it adequately dust free, Mattie settled on the plush cushion. Her clothes were coated in more layers of dirt than the rest of them, circles and swatches of brown on black. She eyed Carmilla’s black tank top and the leather jacket around Laura’s shoulders, “I don’t suppose there’s anything from this century in this ghastly castle? I’m quite tired of wearing that coffin everywhere I go.”

Carmilla’s muscles tensed before she forcibly relaxed them, “Unlikely. I think there’s a town a few leagues over.”

“Silas is that close?” Mattie asked.

“Yes,” Carmilla said, “Maman used the estate grounds once the building was vacant.”

Mattie leaned forward in her chair, eyes on Carmilla, “Wouldn’t that technically make-”

“Yes.” Carmilla cut in, “but it’s not something I’m interested in discussing.”

“For now.” Mattie’s eyes were fierce.

Carmilla chose to ignore her and settled back on the bench beside Laura. She ran her hand up and down her thigh, palms digging into her jeans. As much as Carmilla tried to keep her eyes on the floor, they kept jumping back to Laura. 

Finally they landed on the camera and stared directly into the lens.

“I’m no good at this,” Carmilla said. She ran a hand through her hair, the matted black snarls getting caught in her fingers, “See, cupcake? This is what happens when you take a break. Your ratings go right down the tubes. People tune in for your whole bumbling cute routine, not…” Carmilla aggressively yanked her hand through the knots, “whatever is it I do.”  
A cloud passed by the window, sending the sunny room back into shade.

“Although,” Carmilla said, “I suppose my face will keep your audience from disappearing entirely, if nothing else, I’m excellent eye candy.” She gave the camera a smirk and a wink but the action was betrayed by her eyes shooting sideways to the unresponsive girl beside her.

Carmilla’s eyes flickered closed then opened as her spine straightened, “Alright. Let’s try this, creampuff. I’ve watched you do this enough times that I think I have your formula down. Welcome the audience with some nerdy quip. Then launch full scale into our mystery with as much enthusiasm as can be contained in a tiny body. Try and figure out what Mother’s plan for these ‘gates’ is exactly while recapping everything they missed.”

Her chuckle was hollow as she continued, “It’s a little long this time. Might be tough to edit. A couple of weeks in the library. The attack. Everyone coming back. Your heroic actions. Honour the fallen. Running. Talk about how I was so stupid and didn’t see the signs of what you’d done even though they were obvious and we were together for weeks and.” Her eyes closed again as Carmilla cut herself off with a sharp breath.

“What are you doing, Mircalla?” Mattie’s voice was soft in the silence. The PR consultant dropping away entirely, “Why are you wasting your time with this? The girl is gone.”

Carmilla said nothing. 

Mattie pressed on, “She’s just a shell. You know that. We’ve been hauling her unresponsive little body through those tunnels for days now with Mother on our tail and little to drink with nary a response from the cub scout. I’ll admit the mad scientist has their uses but you can’t possibly think that this girl is still coming back. You know that and yet you continue to deny realism. Just look at her.”

Carmilla simply sat. Breathing. Her gaze was fixed on Laura’s chest as she timed every inhale and exhale to match the human body beside her. 

“I’ve seen the way you won’t meet her eyes,” Mattie said, “Always so careful with your gaze. But darling, look at her. Actually look at her.”

Carmilla pointedly didn’t look at Laura, eyes going to the other side of the room, “She’ll come back. She’s in there.” 

Mattie rolled her eyes, “When did you become the optimist?”

“I’m not.” Carmilla said, “but that’s what she’d say.”

“And suppose she does,” Mattie pushed, “suppose she does, through some miracle we both know doesn’t exist, suppose she does come back? Do you really think she’s going to be anything close to the girl you were infatuated with?”

Carmilla’s hand snuck out, sitting on the bench so close to Laura but never touching. Pinky just a movement from grazing the ends of the leather jacket. 

“Before everything. She was working through killing Vordenberg,” Carmilla said.

Mattie actually laughed, “As though that is equivalent to this? Even killing the largest ginger again on it’s own would be worse than Vordenberg and this is so much more than that. Having that, thing, in her head likely burned away whatever tiny soul she had in there.”

The words ripped from Carmilla’s throat in a growl as she spun around on the bench to face her sister, “She saved you.”

Mattie waved her off, “She had a guilt complex. It wasn’t about me personally.”

“She saved you,” Carmilla repeated, “when she didn’t have to. When she knew, she must have known, what it would cost. Because she must of had the power before we even entered the tunnels and she didn’t use it until she saved you.”

“She also killed me,” Mattie said, “I suppose that puts us even. Although, she might still owe me for killing mother and getting me disposed from the board and starting this whole mess.”

“Get out.” Carmilla growled, hand clenching into a fist.

“Then again,” Mattie continued, “she did get rid of Mother’s newest protege and you know how much I hate having to train the new help.”

“Get out!” the air shivered with Carmilla’s shout, sending dust swirling through the air as the vibrations sent it shivering and the window panes to quaking. 

Mattie’s mouth snapped shut. Eyes widening as Carmilla stared at her. 

The words hung. 

The discarded sheet on the floor burst into flame.

Carmilla practically quivered. 

Mattie slowly rose to her feet.

Laura sat. Unresponsive. 

“Kitten-” Mattie started.

“Just get out,” Carmilla’s fists shook at her sides as her back muscles tensed, pulled upward towards her ears, “Get out.” Carmilla repeated, “Get out of this room or I will do something that I don’t want to but I will. Because you don’t even care. You don’t care that she has to be in there. She has to be. She sacrificed herself so that you could come back and you are my sister and those are the only two things keeping me from crossing this room. But you don’t care that she’s gone. You don’t care what she did. You don’t care that I love her.”

Mattie took a step towards Carmilla.

Carmilla sent a hand flying out to stop her. 

Mattie paused. 

“Stop,” Carmilla said.

Mattie took another step. 

Then another. Until she stopped right in front of Carmilla. 

“Carmilla,” Mattie said.

“How could you not care?” Carmilla croaked, “how could you not care that I love her?”

Mattie said nothing, she simply reached out and placed a hand on one of Carmilla’s quivering shoulders, smallest comforting stroke of her thumb against Carmilla’s skin. Slowly, Mattie guided Carmilla back until she was sitting on the bench beside the motionless Laura. Carmilla went without a word. No tears on her face as her muscles slowly unclenched. 

Mattie sat down beside her.

Neither woman said anything. They just sat, pressed together from ankle to hip to shoulder with Mattie’s hand a light weight on Carmilla’s knee. 

They held the pose as the small fire in the discarded sheet died out and Carmilla gave a deep, shuddering breath that was an aborted sob. The air still. Then, without movement or prompt from either of the vampires, Laura moved. 

Laura fell. 

She tilted sideways, weight tumbling to drop against Carmilla side. Her leather clad arm landing haphazardly on Carmilla’s thigh while her head landed to be tucked perfectly between Carmilla’s head and shoulder so that light breath dusted her neck. 

Mattie gave a sharp inhale of surprise as Carmilla head whipped around, looking down at the girl who had draped herself over them.

“Laura?” Carmilla said softly, “cupcake?”

There was no response so Carmilla reached out and slowly pushed Laura’s hair from her face, caressing her ear as Carmilla tucked the dirty hair away. 

And for the first time in days, Carmilla met Laura’s gaze. 

Laura’s eyes blazed white. They glowed with an ethereal brightness that occasionally flared with power just beyond the confines of her eyes to leak down her cheeks. It was a glow better meant for predators of the deep. Or ancient gods. It was a light that Carmilla had once stabbed with a sword and had not expected to see again, never expecting to personally watch the light of the anglerfish swallow the brown iris in Laura’s eyes. 

But here, in a dusty castle, they were white eyes that had tumbled towards her while her heart was breaking. They tumbled where they had not moved since the brown disappeared. They tumbled to a place where tiny human breath tickled her neck.

“She moved.” Mattie said.

Carmilla swallowed as she swept over Laura’s empty eyes “Thanks, cupcake.” She dropped her forehead to press against Laura’s, eye closing as she listened to the thump of Laura’s heart, “we’re going to get you out of there.”

Laura exhaled and if Carmilla strained, it almost sounded like, “Carm.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of those stories where I'm like, 'the end'. That's it. We're done. And then my brain says BUT WHAT IF. and i say BRAIN NO. it's my brain's like BRAIN YES and goes makes up more story so there's an entire s3 born with god!Laura. So I suppose the question is BRAIN YES or BRAIN NO?
> 
> Writing these stories has only reasserted the realization that you amazing cupcakes are just such kind and generous human beings as you encourage, correct and just generally act fantabulous through your supportive comment, kudos and [ tumblr stop-ins ](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/). Thank you so much. They mean the world and I'm constantly awed by the time you take to help keep me writing.


End file.
